


Through the Rain

by Aglarien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22513315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/pseuds/Aglarien
Summary: Glorfindel is sent to Arda to aid Elrond, leaving his mate in Valinor.
Relationships: Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29
Collections: 2020 My Slashy Valentine





	Through the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mawgy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mawgy/gifts).



> Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings universe is the sole property of the Tolkien estate. This story is written for enjoyment only and no profit is made. Only the cat is mine.
> 
> Thanks to Chaotic Binky for beta and brain storming!
> 
> Timeline: Circa 1701 of the Second Age
> 
> Written for Mawgy for My Slashy Valentine 2020, who requested Erestor/Glorfindel in a story using this quote as inspiration: "My love for you is as the rain drops from the sky. Unmeasurable. Uncountable. Infinite."

Prelude

Glorfindel’s hand remained raised in farewell long after the figure on the white shore could see him. Steadily, relentlessly, the sea carried him away, away from all that he knew. Away from his dearest friend, companion, and lover. Away from all that he held dear. He was alone on the small boat, borne carefully, but steadily, by Ulmo, back to the Middle-earth he had left so long ago in Gondolin’s fall. 

“It will not be for long,” he whispered aloud to himself, as if speaking the words made it true. “The Valar have promised it will not be for long.” Middle-earth had need of him, they had said. Elrond, son Eärendil, had need of him. Glorfindel could not help being secretly resentful of the Valar and their “'request” that he give aid to the descendant of his former king. Dying once for his people had apparently not been enough. Now, to be torn away from his dearest love, it was almost more than should be asked of one Elf – especially since it had been such a short time since he’d been reborn. All the praise and cajoling and pleading of the Valar be damned. He would do only what was expected of him, do what he had to do to aid Elrond as quickly as possible, and then he was going back home. Home to his Erestor.

Part one – Am I done here?

Crisp leaves crackled under his boots as Glorfindel crossed the courtyard. Autumn was swiftly passing to winter. The chill in the air and the darkening clouds heralded the coming rain. The first drops fell with a sudden swiftness of wind as he hurried to his rooms. It was still two or more hours before dinner, but the day had been long, filled with building stone walls and the laying of roof tiles. He was looking forward to a bit of a rest before his meal. They had completed the final addition to the workers’ quarters today, just in time for winter. Blacksmiths and leather workers, culled from the refugees of Eregion, were already hard at work supplying the barracks and stables with the fruit of their labor. It was good that they now had secure housing for the winter, since the weather could be fierce in this mountain haven. Just as it had once been in Gondolin.

He was pleased to find that the servants had lit a fire in his hearth, his quarters already warmed by the blaze. The sleek black cat that had long ago adopted Glorfindel as his own lay stretching in front of the fire. “Well, Tinnu,” he said to the animal, “I think we are in for a stormy night.” He sat close to the fire in his most comfortable chair, knowing that Tinnu would quickly take up his usual spot on Glorfindel’s lap. The cat did not disappoint, and Glorfindel ran his fingers through the soft fur, his eyes fixed on the flames and his mind hundreds of leagues away. Minutes passed, and still more before he spoke again. “Have I done what I was sent here to do, Tinnu? Too many years have passed, more than I would ever have imagined. Imladris is built, we have withstood the siege, and thanks to Minastir and Numenor, Sauron has been defeated. I have established this haven’s forces for the protection of its people, and still I am here. Elrond wants me to lead his forces and be his counsel. Is that why I am still here? Is there yet more to come?” 

The cat chirped at Glorfindel as if in answer, and rubbed its face along the Elf’s. Glorfindel chuckled. “You have been a good friend and companion, Tinnu,” he said. “When I leave, Elrond will care for you. It is too dangerous a journey for me to take you with me. I would not risk you.” He doubted the cat understood his words, but Tinnu moved to lie against Glorfindel’s chest as if he did. “I do not know how much longer I can stay here without Erestor,” he said. “I am not complete without him, and I know in my heart that he mourns my loss, as I do his. A thousand times a day I wonder what he is doing, what he is thinking.” He sighed, thinking of Erestor. Deep in thought, his fingers continued their rhythmic stroking of the cat until it was time for dinner. 

After washing and changing into presentable clothing, he joined Elrond at his usual spot at table, seated to the right of Imladris' Lord. During the meal, they spoke of the building completion, the sheltering of their herds and flocks over the winter, and the crops that would be planted the following spring. At the end of meal, Glorfindel quietly asked Elrond for a moment's time and the two Elves retired to Elrond's quarters. 

Elrond poured two glasses of a cordial and handed one to Glorfindel, concern in his eyes. "What is it you would like to talk to me about? You look troubled."

"Troubled. Yes, that is a good word for it," Glorfindel replied as he took the glass. He took a sip, as if for fortitude, and then began to speak. "I have given this much thought, Elrond, and I can stay in Imladris no longer. I have done what the Valar asked of me and aided you in the founding of this haven and the defeat of Sauron. I am sorry, Elrond. Your friendship has meant much to me, but my heart is calling me home.”

Elrond set his glass down on a table and walked closer to Glorfindel, standing before him and placing his hands on the ancient Elf-lord's shoulders. “You have never spoken of it, but there is someone waiting for you in Valinor, is there not? You have a mate there?”

Glorfindel nodded. “My heart is breaking,” he whispered. “His name is Erestor, and my love for him is as the rain drops from the sky. Unmeasurable. Uncountable. Infinite. We have been separated for so long, and I want to go home. The Valar promised us we would not be apart for very long but it has been so many years.” 

Elrond withdrew his hands, a stifled sound not unlike a smothered snort in his throat. “What is a short time for the Valar is not so short for an Elf, I fear. Glorfindel, you have become very dear to both me and all of Imladris, but I hold no claim on you. I cannot and will not stop you from leaving, as much as we will regret it and be bereft without your strength and goodness. When will you leave? Will you take an escort to the Havens to sail?”

“I should like to leave the day after tomorrow, if I may,” Glorfindel replied, immensely relieved at Elrond’s easy grace in allowing him to leave. “It will give me time to turn over my duties to others and clean out my chambers. I will ride to the Havens alone. Will you take Tinnu and care for him?”

Elrond nodded. “Yes, of course. I will be happy to and will make sure no harm comes to him.”

“I will miss you greatly, my friend,” Glorfindel said. “My heart will grieve at our parting, but I admit, not as much as it has grieved for the loss of my Erestor.”

Part two – Trying to leave

The following day, Glorfindel turned over his records to Elrond, his duties to his second in command, and packed what belongings he wished to take with him to Valinor. The remainder of his things he left in a large trunk in his chambers, to be distributed as Elrond saw fit. 

Tinnu, as all cats do, knew something was changing, and Glorfindel talked to him all through the day, realizing the cat probably could not understand but speaking as if he could anyway. “Stay with Elrond, my little friend,” he told the cat that night, stroking the soft black fur. “Be as good a companion and friend to him as you have been to me. I fear he will be lonely without me, even though I believe there are others here who will take my place. I will miss you Tinnu, but your memory will live on in Valinor and I will love telling Erestor all about you. He would love you, too, you know.”

The following morning Glorfindel stood in the courtyard. His horse, Asfaloth, held his travel packs, and everything was ready for him to leave. Groups of Elves who had come to bid him farewell lined the space, but it was Elrond who stood close to him with a hand on his shoulder who spoke first. “Dear friend, fare you well. You have been as a brother to me, and I fear I will miss you as strongly as I miss my twin. I take consolation in knowing that we will meet again one day on the shores of Valinor.”

“I will miss you as well, my brother,” Glorfindel said, ignoring all propriety and throwing his arms around Elrond in an embrace. “I have no words to convey what is in my heart. I wish that I could both stay and have my Erestor, but the ways of the Valar are mysterious. Fare well, Elrond. Hold fast to what we have built here and make this place even more a haven than it already is.” His arms fell away, and with a watery smile to Elrond, and a raised hand and a bow to all who watched, he mounted his horse. Not looking back for fear he would see the misery in Elrond’s face, he rode out of Imladris. 

The day was fair, and though it would take him many days to reach the shores of Círdan’s realm, he looked forward to the time alone. It would give him time to think and reconcile what now seemed to be a hasty decision. He knew it was the right decision; there was no doubt in his mind about that at all. He thought perhaps he should have prepared everyone for his leaving a bit better, though. After all, he had been Elrond’s second in command and had a large numbers of duties – but Elrond was a skilled and wise leader, and he would manage just fine. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing to draw out leave-takings. The High King had been right to send Elrond to found Imladris. Sauron had been defeated and it was a time of peace, after all. 

It was as he neared the Ford of the Bruinen that the skies began to darken and the wind began to whip through the trees. Sheets of rain descended so thickly that he could not see a quarter of a furlong in front of him. The closer he got to the Bruinen, the worse the rain became. He plowed forward, urging his horse on, and hoping the deluge would quickly pass when the river came into view. The sight before him froze his heart and he was utterly crushed. The Bruinen was a flood. And not just a flood, but a raging, swirling, torrent that threw up trees and massive boulders in its wake, tossing and breaking them like twigs and stones. 

His way was barred from leaving. 

With a heavy heart, he turned his horse around and headed back to Imladris, much more slowly that he had ridden forth.

Glorfindel reached the courtyard, utterly soaked, a ragged, weary version of the strong Elf who had set out. Imladris was dry, of course, being spared the storm, and he knew he was the focus of curious eyes. 

Elrond flew down the steps and reached him just had he plodded into the courtyard. “What has happened? Had you trouble at the river? Your stores must be all destroyed! Come, let the stable hands care for your horse and come and get dried off in your chambers.”

Glorfindel looked at his friend. “I could not leave,” he said miserably. “The rain was a nearly impenetrable wall and the Bruinen a raging flood. The Valar will not let me leave yet, it seems. The message is clear. My tasks are not yet completed here.” It was good that he was so drenched, else all would have noticed the tears he had not been able to keep from running down his face.

Part 3 – Meanwhile on Valinor

Erestor stood before the circle of the Valar, albeit his usual reverence was missing. The Elf stood defiantly, struggling to keep the anger out of his voice. “My Lords, my Ladies, you told us it would be but a short time, but it has been years! Why are you keeping Glorfindel on Arda for so long? Do you not know how my heart grieves for him? Do you not care?”

Manwë spoke. “Glorfindel’s time on Arda is not yet over. He was two more tasks that must be completed. We cannot predict the time it will take, Erestor. What is a thousand years or more to an Elf? He will return to you as we promised, but only when his tasks are completed.”

The words pierced Erestor like a sword to his chest and he sank to his knees, anger replaced by anguish, for he knew there was nothing he could do to change the minds of the Valar. “A thousand years? Or more? How can Glorfindel stay that long and perform these tasks well without me? I do not think I can live that long without him. Oh, my Lord, say it is not so!”

Manwë opened his mouth to speak, but was preempted by his wife, Varda. “Leave us now, Erestor,” she said gently. “We must speak among ourselves. When we have decided what is to be done, we will send for you.” She smiled at the Elf and motioned for a servant to guide Erestor out of their Hall.

Nienna, the Lady of Mercy, whose constant tears gave hope and healing, said, “We cannot keep them separated for so long. It is too much to demand of them.”

“If we do, I fear Glorfindel will once again be in my Halls,” Námo said.

Vairë, the Weaver, spoke up after her husband, saying, “I agree with Námo. The Halls of Mandos will once again host Glorfindel, and perhaps even Erestor, if we do this to them. Finally, after serving us well with strength and devotion, they found happiness and joy with each other, and we tore them apart. For how much longer must they suffer what they do not deserve? How many times will we have to bar Glorfindel when he tries to return from Arda?”

Manwë listened and watched carefully as the others nodded and murmured in agreement with Vairë’s words. After a moment, he spoke. “There is one thing we have not yet considered.”

Varda, who well knew her husband’s mind, smiled. “We can send Erestor across the sea to join Glorfindel.”

Manwë nodded, and then smiled. “Though we might make Glorfindel work just a little bit to rejoin with his Erestor.”

Vairë’s tapestry began to change under her fingers, slowly evolving into a picture of the dark haired Erestor, seated at a desk. Upon the desk was a stack of books, and by the books there was a black cat. The picture grew to show Imladris in the background, but a much larger Imladris with many more buildings than it had at present. The figure of Glorfindel leading a group of mounted Elves could be seen through an open window. Elrond stood alongside Erestor’s desk, handing the seated Elf a scroll. 

Part 4 – Back In Imladris

Months had passed since Glorfindel’s attempt to leave the sheltered valley, and he had once again settled into life in Imladris. More and more, his thoughts dwelt on Erestor, and it was only the friendship and support of Elrond that helped him through the long days and nights. Summer had faded into the autumn, and winter neared when Glorfindel and Elrond were seated companionably over a game of chess, being carefully supervised by Tinnu. It was raining – that heavy curtain kind of rain that pounded on cobbles and roofs, and bore with it a chill wind. 

Glorfindel raised his head and looked toward the doors of his sitting room and then to the windows. “Did you hear anything?” he asked. “I thought I heard someone calling my name.”

Elrond shook his head. “I have heard nothing.”

Glorfindel listened again. “There it is again. You can’t hear it?”

Elrond shook his head. “I hear nothing but the rain.”

Glorfindel opened the windows to his balcony and the storm rolled into his rooms, but over it all he heard a voice. A voice he knew and loved. “I hear Erestor calling me!” he shouted over the tumult, hurrying to his wardrobe to exchange his house slippers for boots. He grabbed a heavy cloak, and in moments he was through the door and running to the stables. 

Glorfindel raced through the storm, hair and cloak whipping behind him, oblivious to the rain. He heard Erestor’s voice, and answered it each time with his own shout, “Erestor, I am here! I am coming!”

At an eerily familiar spot close to the Bruinen, the rain was a wall of water, seemingly impenetrable, and he could hear Erestor’s voice, calling to him on the other side. He launched himself off of Asfaloth and into the rain. At every step the water tried to force him back, but nothing would stop him from reaching Erestor. Not this rain, not this water, not the Valar, not anything. Erestor was here and Glorfindel was going to find him. The voice got nearer and nearer, and onward he plunged himself forward. Suddenly the rain became a curtain and he could hear that beloved voice, so close now. He thrust his arm through the cold, living sheet of water and cried out, “Take my hand! I am here! Take my hand!”

Suddenly he felt strong fingers grip his own and he pulled with all his might, drawing Erestor through the silver curtain. And then Erestor was in his arms. They stood holding each other as the rain turned into a gentle shower around them. "My love for you is as the rain drops from the sky. Unmeasurable. Uncountable. Infinite," he whispered into Erestor’s ear before their mouths joined in a deep, bond-affirming kiss.

Erestor’s horse had followed him through the rain, and a cold wet nose insistently nudged his master. “I think Tinnu wants a nice dry stable and some decent fodder. Please, can we go to Imladris and get dry now? Is it far? And is Elrond a good ruler? Will I like it here, do you think?”

Glorfindel smiled at Erestor’s horse’s name, but only said, “It is not far. Elrond is kind and wise, and welcoming to all people of good will to this place. You will like it and we will be very happy here. Let us go home.” Imladris was home, as long as Erestor was there. He could stay in Imladris forever as long as Erestor was with him. He helped Erestor to mount and led Tinnu to where his own horse stood waiting. He mounted, and the two Elves rode home through the gentle rain. 

Grooms hurried over to take the horses to the stables and care for them, and Glorfindel quickly pulled Erestor to his rooms, where Elrond still waited, knowing that something of import was happening. 

“What wonder is this?” Elrond exclaimed. “Is this Erestor, as you thought?”

Glorfindel’s smile lighted his face. “My Lord Elrond, may I present Erestor, my bonded mate?”

“Oh my,” Elrond breathed. “What have the Valar done? Truly they want you to stay here, Glorfindel, to have sent Erestor across the sea to you.” He turned to Erestor, and smiling, took Erestor’s hands in his own. “You are welcome in Imladris, Erestor of Valinor. Welcome home.”

And so Erestor came to Imladris to live in happiness and love with Glorfindel, for wherever they were together, that was home. Tinnu the cat quickly attached himself to Erestor, and Glorfindel never tired of teasing Erestor for stealing his pet, though in reality the two Elves shared the animal’s affections. Elrond grew to love Erestor as another brother, and named him his chief counselor. 

Many centuries later, when their tasks were finally complete, the three Elves and the rest of Elrond’s house sailed to Valinor, where Glorfindel and Erestor still live happily ever after. 

~the end


End file.
